The Day the World Went Away
by RedHands
Summary: Post-OOTP. Albus Dumbledore makes a grave mistake when he pursues the ring Horcrux, leaving Harry Potter to suffer the consequences.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. **

**The Day the World Went Away**

**by RedHands**

**Chapter One:  
>In Cauda Venenum<strong>

The Gaunt household was all but welcoming to its first visitor in decades, its haggard guest being one of few to walk through the dilapidated shack, both magically and naturally hidden within overgrown weeds and bushes. The bright splendour of his electric blue robes adorned with planetary alignments clashed with the dark of the night and decaying decor of the shack. Only quiet footsteps were heard amongst the whistles of the wind against the leaves of the ancient trees that surrounded the wooden house.

Small flickers of flame shot out from the tip of his wand with a simple wave, dispersing in all directions and lighting various candles and lanterns, exposing a horribly kept house that was any wonder that someone had actually managed to live in. With a stoic calm, he addressed the burning wound in his side, feeling the blood from his body beginning to stain the inside of his robes. Ripping a piece of the fabric off, he revealed a jagged, deep purple wound that oozed with crimson blood. Prodding it with his wand, he watched as the wound slowly closed, repairing itself.

Like the house, his body was old and withered, but still willing to fight for its survival, as he so sorely found out upon his arrival to the outskirts of Little Hangleton. His wounds were a product of a 'rebound' – seeing as he had little time to disarm the wards that protected the house and its contents, he had to resort to brute force to batter down the intricate defences that had been cast and had suffered a backlash of the wards' destruction. It was no wonder that there was nothing left living near the vicinity of the house, save the snakes that casually slithered around his feet. The area was so thick with dark magic that it was seeping from the shack and had begun to corrode all that surrounded it.

He closed his eyes, regaining his composure from the effects the dark magic was having on him, tightening his grip around his white wand and feeling every groove and carved rune on the wood with his skin, using it as a focus for himself. Opening his eyes, he let his wand leak small doses of his own pure magic around the house, slowly pacing around the room and paying attention to every slight feeling or instinct that came over him. The density of the magic in the house was nothing short of frightening, but with the amplified powers the wand granted him, he was able to hone in on exactly what he was looking for.

His wand turned rigid and stopped, and he felt both a sudden pull and a contradicting rejection coming from the wooden floor beneath his feet. He knelt down and stared intently at the ground before him and with another easy wave of his wand, he revealed a small discrepancy amongst the floorboards. Gently pulling his wand towards himself, the boards began to peel back and uncovered a glistening golden box, shining through the dust and grime that covered it.

Another wave of his wand and the box was clean and restored to its former glory, bedazzled with jewels all around it, and practically begging to be touched and opened, as if it was a lost love calling to him. If not for his strong sense of will, he would have immediately picked it up. Instead, reciting intricate words of old and waving his wand in a complicated fashion with increasing fervour, he delicately began revealing and dispelling all the manner of dark curses and wards that had been enchanted upon the box, each lighting up and destroying itself in a fiery demise. He had a morbid respect to the lengths gone to protect the box, but as he was almost finished removing the final few curses, he began to notice the snakes around him become increasingly agitated and hostile.

Soon, the room began to fill with ear-piercing hissing noises, snakes of all species and forms began to slither into the shack, and gradually the floor was covered in a sea of dark-coloured, writhing reptiles honing in on its prey. He could see the venom on their fangs glistening in the light, and it wasn't long until one snake dared to leap forward at him, mouth open, ready to latch onto his flesh.

A slashing movement with his wand sliced the snake in two, and another arc motion forced a gust of wind to blow back a group of the snakes that persisted. All around him he saw snakes still continuing their approach, some even knocking down the candles and fire he had previously lit up. The fire caught amongst the old wood, and rather than put it out to stop himself being consumed with the house, he waved his wand in a circular motion, harnessing the flames to create a circle of fire around himself and the box, keeping the snakes at bay for the time being. Meanwhile, he set to transfiguring all the furniture around the house into foxes and large birds, which instantly welcomed the feast, charging forward on his command onto the masses of snakes.

The heat of the room was getting to him, a cloud of smoke began to fill the room and all he could hear over the sound of fire was the battle between predators and prey. He had to move quicker. Levitating the box out of its hiding place, he finally solved the final ward, unlocking the box and revealing its contents, instantly putting him under a spell he had never dreamt he would encounter.

His eyes were immediately glued to the ring before him, and as soon as he saw the stone that adorned it, the symbol carved on its body – it was all right there. It was too easy. He knew exactly what he had to do – his wildest imaginations, his once forgotten lifelong ambition was now in front of him. Everything he had built his former life on and watched crumble to pieces in the defeat of his best friend once again presented itself as an opportunity inside this box.

And at that moment he felt nothing like the old man in the dying body that he was, but like the passionate, fearless teenager with the world in the palm of his hands. He could even swear he heard a voice, a patient young woman, calling out to someone she had waited so long to see – calling out to _him_. "_Albus._"

The voice had pushed him over the edge. This was the solution to all his problems, this was the means to the ends he sought. With the wand in his hand, the stone in the box and the cloak that he could easily retrieve, he would be unstoppable! He reached forward earnestly like a child receiving a present, and the exact moment when he slipped the ring onto his finger he felt complete.

Until suddenly, like he was struck by lightning – an all-consuming pain hit him, causing him to howl and scream as he collapsed to the floor. Unknown torture like he had never experienced before began to wrap around his body, cold and harsh like the grip of Death himself, strangling all life out of him. Trying to regain command over his own body, he focused on the one urge to pick up his dropped wand and point it at the hand which had the ring. The task proved excruciating, as every single agonizing moment pleaded with him to just let his body succumb to the curse and die. In his shaking left hand he held his wand, and with a final show of resolve, he stabbed it forward into his hand, repeating the same mantra – "_liberate te ex inferis, liberate te ex inferis, liberate te ex inferis._"

Pouring as much magic as he could into the spell, he watched the black curse creeping up his arm, slithering like a snake, slowly begin to recede, finally settling on just encompassing his hand, leaving a black, withered mark. He felt a hot, prickling sensation around his body as it returned to his control, and his mind finally accepted the foolhardiness of his actions.

He knew he could either wallow in his self pity at his moment of sheer idiocy, or set to his task – leave this place and obliterate the accursed object. He felt a slight twinge in pain of the curse fighting back at his attempt to halt its effects, knowing if he did not get proper aid he would soon succumb to it.

Weakened, but still able, he tried his best to calm the now raging fire around him, ignoring the battle of the animals around the house – biting, slashing, tearing of flesh, blood and bone. He raised his wand to form a path before him to the door, but his attention was quickly diverted by the shattering of the windows around the shack as the Inferi began to stake their claim. Joining the snakes in the house, the reanimated corpses soon began to let themselves inside, and for the first time in years, Albus felt fear.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, as he took another pause to close his eyes, summoning all the magic inside of him to his wand, he knew this would be his last stand. Letting go of a deep, held breath, the wizened wizard's eyes burst open to accept the swell of evil magic which overwhelmed the place and washed over him like a tidal wave, as the door and his only escape was torn to pieces by an unforgiving gale of wind and in its wake, the grotesque figure of the Dark Lord.

"Good evening, Tom." He smiled pleasantly, betraying the burning fury hidden behind his dazzling blue eyes.

"Are you going to tell me it was foolish for me to come here tonight, again, Albus?" Voldemort questioned, wand raised.

"All your actions up until this point have been grossly miscalculated, Tom, but I'm sure you've heard this lecture from me quite enough already." Professor and student once again, as Albus' wand held steady inside his cursed black hand.

"I see even the great Grand Sorcerer himself has fallen victim to my curses." Voldemort smirked, clearly pleased with his results. "Because I am merciful and I still hold respect for your abilities despite your foolhardiness, Albus, I will give you a choice."

"How kind of you, Tom."

Ignoring the comment, Voldemort continued. "You can either blindly try to duel your way out of this situation, in which you will most certainly die painfully, if not by me then by the curse. Or, I can kill you now, quickly and painlessly."

Albus still found himself continuously disappointed at what was one of his biggest failures. "You know I will do neither. And you should also know that I will always do whatever is in my power to stop you."

"That is why tonight, Albus, you _will_ die." Voldemort's features turned into a fierce glare, his wand whipped forward and cast forward dozens of snakes from the ground in Albus' direction. Responding with a jagged, slashing motion, Albus released a torrent of Fiendfyre from his wand in the shape of a large phoenix, which opened its beak to consume the oncoming snakes, and under his direction circled the house and burnt the bodies of the Inferi to a crisp, before finally making a dead on course for Voldemort.

Charming the house itself around him, Voldemort collapsed the roof of the shack to form a big enough barrier to take the brunt of the flame whilst he skirted off to the side to avoid the rest of the attack, exposing their duel to the night sky. Continuing to use the setting to his advantage, Voldemort manipulated the walls of the shack to start caving in on Albus, jagged pieces of wood flying in from all sides, whilst Voldemort also fired bolts of dark grey magic towards him.

Gracefully taking a few steps back, Albus let the wood clip his long grey beard, still maintaining his control over the fire, destroying the mass of Inferi and snakes, and gradually consuming the house whole. Sliding away from more of Voldemort's curses, he strengthened his stance – tiring movements in an aged body would be his undoing.

Satisfied with the destruction he had caused, Albus summoned the fire back to his wand, relinquishing the burning of the house, leaving behind the singeing noises of burnt wood and a cloud of smoke to cover their battle.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" The green curse shot through the smoke, Albus this time throwing the horrendously disfigured corpse of an Inferi in the way of the blast. Albus resumed his assault, transfiguring debris all around him into an array of lions and tigers, whilst charming them to attack Voldemort, who was suddenly awakened to a fact that he had not initially expected – Albus was duelling to kill.

Occupying Voldemort with the beasts, Albus raised his wand to fire more spells, but the moment he raised his wand he saw the black curse on his hand creeping forward again, fighting him and determined to take his life as a trophy. Voldemort, meanwhile, was still wary of Albus, slashing and hacking at the beasts, setting upon his snakes to slow them down while he tore their guts out and ripped their bodies open with swipes of his wand

He was almost sickened by Albus' attitude during the duel, an angry disappointment that his former Professor had relapsed on his formerly coveted ideals and was willing to take a life. The anger fuelled his magic, as he banished the carcasses of the beasts towards him whilst conjuring chains to shoot forth from the ground around Albus' feet. Albus reflexively banished the carcasses to the side and quickly severed the chains around his ankles, responding with a similar spell, this time turning the ground around Voldemort's feet into quicksand.

With Voldemort sinking, Albus was confidently striding forward, starting on the offensive and casting a volley of spells at Voldemort who was caught between blocking the spells and trying to free himself from his predicament. Casting his wand upwards, he erected a thick wall from the ground, letting the spells smash into its side and forcing it to press on towards Albus. Using his bided time, Voldemort cast down at his feet, managing to free himself once he was knee deep, just in time to see his wall shattered with a powerful curse that continued to rocket towards Voldemort.

Albus simultaneously cast spikes and tendrils to shoot out from all sides of Voldemort, attempting to trap him. However, Voldemort surprised Albus by flying into the sky, smiling as he saw Albus' shocked expression at Voldemort's newly acquired ability. He still remained on his guard, Albus' conjured birds zeroing in towards him. Voldemort attempted to cast spells to destroy the birds, but they were small and nimble, easily manoeuvring around his spellfire and getting close enough to him to suddenly explode in balls of fire, leaving Voldemort to curse Albus' name as he cast an impromptu shield that only managed to take some of the attack.

Voldemort turned his descent into a slight glide and Albus enchanted all manners of objects around him, throwing themselves at Voldemort with rapid speed. Voldemort took no chances and batted away the banished objects with a quick spell and fired multiple killing curses. Albus demanded his ached joins to cooperate, forcing himself to ignore the looming curse that continued to attack his body and to move as he leapt backwards and watched the small craters sizzle from the curses that had just struck them.

Voldemort knew where Albus' weaknesses lied, and was forcing him to move, as Albus found his shields almost instantly shattered as soon as they were conjured, and at his feet on every step was another curse. Voldemort pushed forward with a stunning display of rapid wand work and soon found himself reciting his curses out loud with increased intensity as he pursued his prey. "_Impetus Abolesco!" _

Albus was nearly blinded by the shimmering array of spells being fired towards him, as well as the blood red curse Voldemort had ended with, and summoning all of his magic into his Elder Wand, he began casting, intent on finishing before the spells made contact. "_Ex malo bonum._"

He barely managed to complete his quiet but firm casting just before Voldemort's first spell struck, as his wand whipped in a whirlwind and the spells in front of him seemed to momentarily pause, as Albus turned in his spot and redirected the bolts of light around him. With a purposeful thrust towards Voldemort, he sent the spells hurtling back towards their caster, as Albus demonstrated to Voldemort that he too could also do the impossible.

The feat had nearly drained him of all his magic, but he had backed Voldemort into a corner, forced to deal with the intricacies of his own dangerous spell work. He watched onwards, maintaining his stance as Voldemort let one of the spells hit him, seemingly shattering into millions of grains of sand, letting the barrage of spells completely destroy everything in its wake. Albus' powerful magic had him exhausted, and the curse that had now spread to his whole arm and upper torso was using the opportunity to advance on the rest of his body, as Albus could feel Death's grip tighten around his neck.

The sand flew forward and materialised itself mere metres in front of Albus, who already had a spell prepared, a spout of water gushing forth from his wand and wrapping itself around the reformed body of Voldemort, attempting to drown him in a ball of water, throwing him around inside. Voldemort insisted on fighting the water, attempting to regain footing amongst the swell and finally finding his bony fingers wrap around his yew wand and press enough of his own magic against Albus' to create a hole within the sphere for himself to escape.

Coming tumbling outside the ball gasping for breath, Voldemort once again was flying mid-air, gliding around Albus and using the height advantage to cast down dark blue orbs to fly towards him. Albus tried to smother the spells with water, but it did little to halt them. Albus then tried to sidestep out of their way, but found the orbs following his movements, sticking close to him and refusing to let up.

Transfiguring loose debris around him into more birds, he sent them flying at the orbs, who seemed to have a mind of their own and dodged the animals, continuing their relentless path towards him. Albus found his movements gradually get slower and more sluggish, but soon enough his transfigured creatures managed to both keep Voldemort occupied and consume most of the orbs, leaving two of them to find their target and curse Albus with dark blue magic that sent him tumbling to the ground. More spells erupted from Voldemort's wand, lazily dodged whilst Albus was prone on the ground, further adding injury to his wrecked body, effortlessly tossed through the air.

With whips of Voldemort's wand, Albus was struck one by one – the blood on the inside of his body began to erupt from his organs, the feeling in his entire left side had disappeared, and his vision was becoming consumed with darkness. The burning scars in his right side were dark in colour and continued to eat away at him, joining the growing dark curse. Despite the affliction of the curses, which now had him struggling to come to his knees, he managed to prop himself up off the ground, seeing in his blurred vision through slightly broken glasses that Voldemort loomed overhead, wand raised, ready for the kill. He had paused, seemingly having defeated the only man he supposedly feared.

"You knew it would end this way." Voldemort said, offering the man a few moments before he cast his final curse. Despite Albus' state he had still not given up on the fight before him, both with his own body and with Voldemort, and still struggled to keep some sense of dignity. Voldemort was only in a better condition by a small comparison, Albus' own spells having seriously damaged his new body. "You have been defeated, Albus."

"It's not supposed to end like this." Albus replied ominously.

"It will, and you will die now, Albus, and I will become immortal." Voldemort stated, the moonlight reflected in his snake eyes and Albus had finally come to see Voldemort truly believed that. "I want you to know that there is nothing you can or could have possibly done to stop this outcome."

"Tom." Albus said what he knew was to be his final words, staring into the red slits of the creature that hovered above him. He knew that at the end of the day, at the end of _time_, his fate did not lie in ending this duel. "_Totus corrumpo!" _

Rapidly, Albus stood on his feet and fired his wand, using every last reserve of his magic to blast the electric blue spell that appeared as a mere flash before Voldemort's eyes. His reflexively cast shield was immediately shattered by the spell and he was wholly consumed by a wave of blue that mockingly matched Albus' own eyes, washing over his body.

The last thing Voldemort saw before he entered a world of pain was Albus' collapsed but somehow triumphant figure, almost consumed in the black curse, and that devastating twinkle in his eye as the gloriously blazing phoenix appeared from the sky and wrapped him in its flames, taking him away from the scene.

**0**

In a bright burst of red flame, Albus appeared, collapsed and on the edge of life, the red phoenix perched on his shoulder, desperately crying for him. Letting his body be soothed by the phoenix song, he stared directly into the startled eyes of the other occupant of the room. As the Elder Wand fell from his hand and the ring slowly slid from his fingers, Albus began to speak.

"I have been defeated."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **TL;DR version: Dumbledore goes after the ring Horcrux, Voldemort shows up, they have a bitchin' duel.

Cheers for reading, I'll try to update as soon as exams finish, so in about a week or so. I've got most of the story plotted out already. Anyway, please review and tell me _something_ that will help me out - if it sucked, if there's spelling errors or bigger things like plot holes and large mistakes - hopefully however I'll have managed to solve all of them before publishing.


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